


You Wear My Scars So Well

by lamentomori



Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 12:30:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16516538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamentomori/pseuds/lamentomori
Summary: When he was younger, a heavy line bisected Tetsuya's soul-mark. Doctors told him his soulmate was gone... They were wrong, very wrong.





	You Wear My Scars So Well

He’d become used to people looking at him sympathetically. His soul-mark is prominent, but it’s tainted. Running through the middle of it is a thick line. It hadn’t always been there. One day it had appeared, burning so much that he’d gone to the hospital. The doctor had spoken to him kindly, but full of condolences. His soulmate was probably gone. The line was an indicator that they were probably dead. It was a bitter realisation. There _had_ been someone out there that was his. There _had_ been a person that was perfect for him, but they’re gone. He’d spent months mourning someone he’d never met. He’d tried to picture what they’d looked like, but his mind drew blanks. He’d tried to decide on a gender, but again he didn’t know. He’d fallen into a dark void. He’d been lost, going through the motions of living. His doctor had suggested he go to a support group.

The group was a collection of people without soul-marks, or had lost their soulmate before meeting them. He’d been quiet the first time he attended. He’d sat in the corner, watching all the others. He’d felt almost out of place. He’d never thought about the lives of people who’d never had a soul-mark in the first place. Society places so much emphasis is placed on finding your soulmate. It must be impossible to be born without a mark. People have sympathy for him, they can see the thick ugly line dividing the delicate intricacies of his soul-mark, but if you don’t have one in the first place people look down on you. It was in the group he met his partner. Bushi doesn’t have a soul-mark. He was there because it was the easiest place to meet other people without marks. He had a quick wit, and wicked laugh. He’d asked Tetsuya out for a drink. Three months later, they’d been dating. A year after that, they’d gotten engaged.

Tetsuya is leaning against the bar in the loud, trashy nightclub. He’s long been ditched by his friend, Sanada in favour of some cute girl. He’s waiting ten more minutes, then he’s leaving. Bushi will be home by now, probably at least. He might be delayed on the road. When they’d started dating they’d both been a lot less delayed. Just a year ago they’d been a lot more invested in each other. A year ago, Bushi had proposed, and he had said yes. They’ve not actually made any plans towards a bonding, but he has a betrothing ring on his finger. It’s not something either of them are in a hurry for, he thinks at least. Honestly, since their engagement they’ve not discussed it.

“C’mon, one more drink.” Two young men approach the bar. The taller of the two is hounding the other into drinking more. The shorter of the pair seems putout, but concedes to taking a bottle of beer. He looks over at Tetsuya. His eyes linger, running up and down Tetsuya. He gives him a half-smile, and that seems to drain confidence from him, he shakes his hair over his face, turning away quickly. Tetsuya’s self-imposed ten minutes pass as he keeps an eye on the two men down the bar. The shorter of the two keeps sneaking glances at Tetsuya from under his hair. He’s not sure if he’s being flirted with or not. The young man seems uncertain, sipping at his beer, talking to his friend, and looking over. His friend claps him on the shoulder suddenly, and spins him around to face Tetsuya. A hard shove forward leaves the poor thing with no choice but to stumble up to Tetsuya.

“Your friend seems…emphatic.” He steadies the young man with a hand on his shoulder, and gets a startlingly coy smile for it.  He’s clearly slightly drunk, his cheeks a little flushed, his eyes a little glassy, his smile a little lop-sided.

“He’s an asshole.” He smiles, a carefree grin. He’s younger than Tetsuya had assumed, maybe all of twenty-three. Up close he’s cute, all soft features, and golden skin. “I’m Hiromu.” He tilts his drink towards Tetsuya. “Can I get you another?”

“I’d feel bad letting a kid buy me a drink.” Tetsuya laughs, and takes Hiromu’s beer bottle. “I’ll buy you something more suitable.” Hiromu blinks at him in confusion. Tetsuya flags the bartender over and orders a brightly coloured, overly sweet cocktail. “That seems much your style.” Tetsuya gestures to the bright red in his hair, and the vibrant clothes he’s wearing. Hiromu looks at him, and wraps his lips around the straw, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks.

“Hmm…nice.” His eyes flick up and down over Tetsuya. “So, you have a name?” He’s wearing a sweet, cheeky little smile. He’s definitely flirting, awkwardly, blatantly flirting.

“I do.” Tetsuya sips at the beer, watching a flicker of annoyance pass over Hiromu’s eyes. He’d been hoping for an answer not teasing. “Tetsuya.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Tetsuya.” He holds his hand out for a shake. His other hand takes a hold of his cocktail. The strobing lights of the nightclub catches on his soul-mark. He must see Tetsuya looking at it. He pulls his sleeve down. “C’mon, this isn’t the place to be meeting soulmates.” He laughs, and takes the straw from his cocktail. “It’s the place to find a fuckbuddy for the night.” He drains the cocktail, and the rest of the beer. Without thinking, Tetsuya wraps an arm around his waist. He’s not sure why, but pulling him closer seemed like the right thing to do. “So, fuckbuddy?” He starts walking, and Tetsuya follows him. There’s something about this young man, something that makes him want to keep him close by.

“Wait, wait.” Tetsuya catches his wrist, the wrist with his soul-mark on it. There’s no doubting the tingle. “Let me see it.” Hiromu looks at him blankly for a second, and grabs Tetsuya’s hand. He pushes back Tetsuya’s sleeve, his eyes widen. “It’s the same isn’t it?” Tetsuya runs a hand though Hiromu’s hair. “Show me.” Hiromu shakes his head, and presses him against the wall, standing almost on his tiptoes, mouthing at his neck. His hands tangle in Tetsuya’s hair, gently massaging his scalp.

“Come home with me.” He murmurs against Tetsuya’s skin. His breath is warm and sweet. His body warm and soft. This feels like nothing ever has. This is what he’s been lacking his whole life, something he never knew he needed. If it’d only been a couple of years ago. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be here. He has Bushi.

“I can’t.” Tetsuya, whispers back. He almost wants the loud music to swallow his words. He takes a hold of Hiromu’s shoulders. His body feels good in Tetsuya’s hands. His soulmate. He’s holding his soulmate, but he can’t keep him. Hiromu shakes himself free, and grabs Tetsuya’s hand. He lines their soul-marks up, a smile that makes a shiver run through Tetsuya’s body spreads over his lips. He presses a kiss to Tetsuya’s wrist, to the mark on the back of it. His soul-mark tingles with warm energy. _His_. This vibrant, beautiful man is his.

“Take me home then.” He’s never felt anything like this soft tingling from his soul-mark. He’s felt nothing from it, not since the day the hideous line formed through it, but then it’d burned like fire. The ugly line is matched by the thick scar through Hiromu’s soul-mark. He wants to know where that scar came from. He wants to ask him a thousand questions. He wants to take him home. He wants him in his bed. He wants him in his life. There’s little doubt that the young man pressing him against the wall is his soulmate. There’s nothing he wants more than this man. His smile is gut-wrenching in its beauty as their aligned marks seem to glow.

“I can’t.” Tetsuya whispers, flexing his left ring-finger. Hiromu’s eyes widen, seeing the band for the first time, staring at the vibrant gold ring. Any colour in his face drains away. He seems to sober instantly. “I’m sorry.” Tetsuya’s hand reaches for him, touching his hair delicately. There’s something painfully final about this moment. Hiromu is shaking his head, staring at Tetsuya’s ring. He takes his hand back, swallowing against the bile he can feel raising up his throat. “I…I’m sorry.” Hiromu nods, not looking at him, his eyes flickering nervously everywhere but at him. He should give him an explanation. He should tell him that the doctors thought he was dead because of the ugly line, but he can’t. The look on Hiromu’s face robs him of words. Broken, betrayed, and so very helpless. He should pull his little soulmate close, and never let him go, but the ring. Bushi. “I thought…I’m sorry.” Hiromu takes a step back, his body curled into itself. His head bowed low, his hands stuffed into his pockets, a tremor running over him.  

“Congratulations.” He smiles tightly, not looking anywhere near Tetsuya at all. He leans forward, and presses a quick kiss to Tetsuya’s lips. Never has nothing more than a peck felt better than that. His soulmate’s lips against his own, even for a second was perfection. But, all too soon, Hiromu is gone. Tetsuya’s fingers touch his lips, like he was trying to keep the sensation of Hiromu’s lips against his own. Tonight didn’t happen. In that moment, he resolves that as a fact. He’s never going to think about this night again. Hiromu. The young man with the beautiful smile, and the heavy scar through his soul-mark, he doesn’t exist. His soulmate is dead.

A year passes. Bushi leaves him for someone else. He’d been hurt, but honestly expecting it. Bushi stayed his friend, but it didn’t matter. As much as he’d tried to shove meeting his soulmate to the back of his mind, he couldn’t. Now that he knew what he looked like, now that he knew the sound of his voice, the taste of his lips, the feel of his body, there was nothing else that truly mattered. He’d lived so long thinking that Hiromu was dead, but he’s not. It’s worse. He’s unreachable.

_Interviewer: Mr Takahashi, are you excited about your new film?_

_Takahashi: Yes…of course! It’s an important story for me._

_Interviewer: What is the story?_

_Takahashi: (Laughs) Shouldn’t you know this? Aren’t you paid to go and see the movies? I’m offended. (stands up, and puts his coat back on.)_

_Interviewer: No! I’ve seen the movie! It was very beautiful. Although, I was surprised that the love story wasn’t the main focus._

_Takahashi: Love was the main focus. (pouting)_

_Interviewer: Not a traditional love focus though... The main plot seems to be about Satoshi and his trees._

_Takahashi: The title makes it very clear what the movie is about. (still pouting)_

_Interviewer: Why the Willow Weeps?_

_Takahashi: Yes._

_Interviewer: I don’t…_

_Takahashi: (sighs) The willows weep for Satoshi…when he is away, sent against his will to fight for his lord, he has no choice…the willows, the trees, the flowers…the garden it weeps for the one person who truly loves it. Without Satoshi, the garden is alone._

_Interviewer: Are the willows a metaphor then?_

_Takahashi: No._

_Interviewer: No? My colleagues and I thought maybe that the trees where meant to seen as stand in for Satoshi’s family, that perhaps they were dead?_

_Takahashi: No. (pauses, staring blankly.) The trees are trees. (laughs) So many people want everything to traditional, that every story has to be about soulmates, and true love that starts with a spark… Sometimes love isn’t about soul-marks…sometimes love is a man and his work. Just like myself. There’s nothing I love more than my work._

_Interviewer: On that note, Mr Takahashi, you must have heard the stories._

_Takahashi: Stories? … I’ve heard only one._

_Interviewer: That your soulmate chose to bond with someone else._

_Takahashi: (another blank stare.)_

_Interviewer: There’s a lot of speculation that the reason all of your films seem so anti-romance is that your…your soulmate…that…is the story true?_

_Takahashi: Would it matter if it was?_

_Interviewer: I think if it was true it would go a long way to explaining your disdain for conventional romances, and the abundance of non-soulmate relationships you portray._

_Takahashi: (Shrugs) I suppose, if it was true it would…I imagine that knowing the person who was supposed to be perfect for you, a person destined to own your heart, decided they didn’t want it would affect how you viewed the world. (Another blank look)_

_Interviewer: Thank you, Mr Takahashi. Do you have anything else you’d like to say?_

_Takahashi: Just that I want to tell everyone reading that it doesn’t matter about soulmates or soul-marks…what matters is that you love yourself, and if that’s too difficult, then know that I love you._

That night in that nightclub is all but public knowledge. Hiromu has never mentioned his name, or the details, but he knows that behind every sudden ending to an interview, every blank look, every cold word Hiromu spouts is because of him and that night. He’d never bonded with Bushi, he couldn’t, not just because Bushi dumped him, but because every kiss, every touch made him think of Hiromu. He’s never tried to find Hiromu, never tried to get the opportunity to explain the situation to him. It hurts to think that Hiromu’s spent years thinking he wasn’t enough, that he wasn’t worth anything to his soulmate. It hurts to know how much he’s wounded Hiromu. It doesn’t matter how much time he’s spent regretting the past, the fact that he pushed his soulmate away, the fact that he wounded his soulmate so deeply, lingers.

“Tetsuya?” He’d never thought he’d meet Hiromu again, for a multitude of reasons. Firstly, he doesn’t deserve it. He pushed Hiromu away, he’d not waited for him, he’d believed the doctors. He’d ignored his own soul. Secondly, he’d ran away to Mexico. But, there’s no mistaking the voice that breathes his name. There’s no mistaking the goosepimples that spread over his skin. There’s no mistaking the tingle in his soul-mark. His mouth feels dry, his hands are shaking, his heart is pounding. Hiromu’s changed. He looks older. His hair is longer. His smile is smaller. His eyes duller, blanker. He’s rubbing his soul-mark like he’s trying to clean it off his skin. “It’s been a long time.” It’s like with only a few words he’s stolen all of the air in the bar. Tetsuya can’t manage to form any words. He stumbles from behind the bar, and staggers over to him. His hands rest on Hiromu’s shoulders. Hiromu smiles tightly, his eyes dark and unreadable.

“Your hair is longer.” The first time in years he’s seen Hiromu, and that is the only thing he can manage to say. Hiromu stares at him like he’s an idiot. He feels like an idiot. He’s not sure how much he’s allowed to touch him. He wants to hold him, he wants to kiss him, he wants to keep him, he wants to never let him go. He thinks it’s probably too late or too early for any of that. Hiromu laughs, nothing more than a huff of amusement.

“Yeah.” He looks so awkward, and like he’s regretting coming into Tetsuya’s bar. The last time he saw Hiromu he’d looked so broken, and so lost, now he just looks tired. He steps back, making Tetsuya’s hands fall from his shoulders. His eyes flicker to Tetsuya’s left hand. His eyebrows knit in confusion.

“We broke up… Didn’t even make it to the bonding.” Tetsuya forces a smile to his lips. Hiromu won’t look at him. He tries to catch his eye, but he can’t. Hiromu’s eyes dart around the bar, not paying attention to anything. One of Tetsuya’s regular customers slams on the bar, and calls out to him, demanding another. “You want a drink?”

“No…I’m going…this was…” Hiromu shakes his head.

“Wait.” Tetsuya catches his shoulder, stopping him from leaving. “ _Please_ let me make you a drink.” Hiromu’s mouth opens, clearly about to refuse his offer. “You came here for a drink, let me get you one.” He nods, and Tetsuya hopes his gratitude shows on his face. He wants Hiromu to know that what happened that night was wrong. He should have told him the truth. He should have broken it off with Bushi. He never should have let Hiromu go. The regular looks at him with a raised eyebrow. He shakes his head, and gives the man his beer. Hiromu’s perches on a stool, looking like he wants to run. He wouldn’t blame him if he did.

“Why...” He trails off without even really starting his question, his hand resting on his soul-mark, hiding it as though out of habit.

“Why what? Why am I in Mexico? Why did I get dumped? Why didn’t I tell you that when the line appeared on my mark, it burnt like fire, so I went to the hospital and they told me you were dead? Or is there something else you want to ask, Hiromu?” Tetsuya sets the same cocktail he’d ordered for him years ago down in front of him. “You ask me, and I’ll answer you.” Hiromu glances up at him, and shakes his head. His hand wraps around the glass, and he takes a drink, ignoring the straw. He doesn’t set the glass down until it’s drained.

“Thanks.” He leaves. He doesn’t look back. Tetsuya doesn’t look away from the door until someone else comes into his bar.

A quick google search tells him Hiromu is there filming something. Details are thin on the ground. Hiromu keeps his private and professional lives very quiet. He doesn’t come back to Tetsuya’s bar, but that’s not a surprise. There’s no reason he would, but Tetsuya wants to see him again. Even if it’s just to look at him, it would be better than knowing they’re in the same place but apart. He doesn’t know how to get into the position to see him again though. He couldn’t just walk up to wherever Hiromu’s filming. It would be stalking at the very least, and he has a bar to run. He can’t just wait for Hiromu to come back to his bar, because he won’t. He knows where Tetsuya is, so he knows where to avoid.

“I don’t know what you made me, but I want another.” It’s late. He’s about to close, but the voice that calls out to him speaks to his soul. Hiromu looks exhausted, and slumps on a stool at the bar. His head falls forward, his hands knotted in his hair. It’s a simple cocktail to make, but it looks inappropriate for Hiromu right now. The only colour in him is the red at the end of his hair, his clothes are black, his shoes are black, the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose are black, his skin has an odd colourless quality to it. It feels silly to serve such a solemn looking man a drink so vibrant.

“Do...” Tetsuya’s voice is too rough, quiet croak like he was a teenager. He clears his throat, and tries again. “Would you like a straw?” Hiromu shakes his head, and picks the glass up. He’s no idea what to say to Hiromu. He looks so tired. He drinks quickly, draining the cocktail in one go. He sets the glass down. His head falls back into his hands. “You look tired.” It’s a stupid statement, but it’s true. Hiromu nods vaguely. His hands slide into his hair. “Do you want another?” Tetsuya’s hovering, wanting to do something to help. Another shake of his head. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” His voice has fallen into that rough, quiet croak again.

“Neither did I.” He smiles tightly at the bar-top. “Thank you.” He sets far too much money down, and stands up.

“Wait.” Tetsuya scrambles around the bar. “Please. Just…” Hiromu looks at him. He’s no idea what he was going to say. His soul-mark tingles as he reaches out for something. He’s not sure what he was planning on doing, but his hand stops mid-air.

“Just what?” Hiromu for a second looks hopeful, but his gaze quickly falls to the floor. He sighs, and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Hiromu, please…come back and see me again.” Tetsuya stuffs his hands into his pockets to stop himself from grabbing Hiromu’s arm, and keeping him in place. Hiromu nods, almost reluctantly.

“Tomorrow.” Hiromu leaves. His soul-mark is warm, and tingling at what he hopes was a promise.

All day he’s nervous. It’s stupid to be nervous, but Hiromu promised, sort of at least. His soulmate. His beautiful, solemn, damaged, delicate, little soulmate. He promised to come to him. But, there’s been no sign of him all day, and all night is devoid of his presence, until almost closing time again.

“Hiromu.” He looks as tired as he did yesterday. Before he can even sit down, Tetsuya makes him the stupidly colourful cocktail. “How was your day?” He asks the stupidly pointless question as he slips a straw into the cocktail. Hiromu wraps his lips around the straw, and takes a sip.

“Long.” He takes his glasses off, and rubs the bridge of his nose. “The dailies aren’t how I want them to be.”

“Dailies?” Tetsuya awkwardly starts cleaning a glass to keep his hands from running through Hiromu’s hair. “Your movie not going the way it should?” Hiromu shakes his head. He sips at his drink again, and swirls the straw around in the glass.

“Nothing goes the way I want it to.” Hiromu smiles down at his drink, and sips it again.

“I’m sorry.” Tetsuya keeps cleaning his glass, trying to not stare, but failing. Hiromu’s still not put his glasses back on, still rubbing his eyes. Tetsuya wants to hold him, to pull him close, to offer him some kind of comfort. He looks like he needs to be comforted. Hiromu shrugs, and rests his elbows on the bar-top. He takes another sip of his cocktail.

“Yeah.” Hiromu takes the straw from the glass, and drains the rest of the cocktail. He pulls money from his pocket.

“Don’t.” Tetsuya puts his hand over Hiromu’s, pushing the money away. “It’s… Just don’t.” Hiromu looks at him dubiously. “Please.” He forces a smile, and ignores the warm tingle of his soul-mark, and the churning in his stomach. Hiromu nods, and stands. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He sounds desperate. He knows he does, but he can’t help it. He’ll revel in these moments in his soulmate’s company for as long as he can. Hiromu nods once, a tight smile on his face.

“Can you take a night off?” Hiromu runs a hand through his hair, and puts his glasses back on, not looking at Tetsuya. “I thought maybe we could…” Hiromu trails off. He tugs on his hair, and shakes his head.

“What time?” Tetsuya without thinking untangles Hiromu’s hand from his hair, twining their fingers together. His soul-mark is softly tingling, warming his skin.

“Don’t you want to know what I was inviting you to?” Hiromu laughs. His fingers tighten around Tetsuya’s, the beautiful smile from that night in that nightclub years ago graces his lips. He’d never thought he’d see it again. It’s still as gut-wrenchingly beautiful as it was the first time he saw it.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Tetsuya laughs. Hiromu’s smile falls away, his eyes flick to the ground. “What time?”

“Six?” Hiromu looks for a second like he’s going to kiss him. He leans a little closer, and seems to catch himself. “There’s a cinema two blocks up…do you know it?” Tetsuya nods, his breath is coming a little too quickly. His mind has summoned up the memory of Hiromu’s lips against his. One kiss, years ago, brief, painfully brief, painful in general. That moment is burned into his mind, even the stupid dance song that was playing in the background that night is etched in his head. It’s an at once hated and cherished memory.

“Cinema, six.” He smiles at Hiromu, and hopes it looks charming, and not as hopelessly grateful as he feels. “I’ll see you then.” He doesn’t touch Hiromu, but he wants to, he wants to stroke his hair back from his face, and draw him into a kiss, a deep, slow kiss, a kiss he’s wanted to give Hiromu for years. He doesn’t. He stands awkwardly looking at him, with no idea what’s on his face. Hiromu gives him a nod, and leaves. Tetsuya lets a stupid smile spread over his lips. A date. A date with his soulmate.

He’s nervous. Stupidly nervous. A date with his soulmate is something to be nervous about though. He’s leaving the bar in the care of his staff. He fusses over what to wear, over how to do his hair, over if Hiromu will even show up. He might not. He’s only here to film a few scenes. He’s been in Mexico for almost two weeks now. He must be nearly done. He might just leave. It would be understandable. If he was Hiromu, he’d stand Tetsuya up.

“Hey.” Hiromu doesn’t though. He arrives exactly at six, just as they agreed. He looks tired, as seems to be normal, clad in black, his hair hidden beneath a beanie. He inclines his head with his greeting. Tetsuya’s fingers itch with the desire to touch Hiromu.

“Hi.” He takes a hold of Hiromu’s hand, squeezing it. His soul-mark is warm, tingling pleasantly as he holds Hiromu’s hand. “How are your dailies?” Hiromu shakes his head, taking his hand back, and using it to remove the beanie from his head.

“Bad.” Hiromu smiles slightly, and hands Tetsuya a ticket. He offers no more words, leading the way to their seats. He takes a seat, and leans his head back against the chair, his face aimed at the ceiling. The movie starts, English subtitles, Spanish words. Tetsuya understands the words spoken more than the written. He stops paying attention quickly though. Hiromu doesn’t look interested in it either. He’d closed his eyes almost as soon as the movie started. His head flops to the side, and rests against Tetsuya’s shoulder. He freezes for a second, then slips his arm around Hiromu’s shoulders, and holding him close. He wants to kiss his hair. He wants to hold him tighter, but the arm of the cinema seat prevents him from drawing Hiromu any closer.

“You’re tired?” Tetsuya asks him softly. He’s not expecting an answer, Hiromu seems like he’s already fast asleep, but he snuggles a little against Tetsuya’s shoulder. “Have a nap, I’ll tell you if this movie gets any good.” Hiromu’s head stays on his shoulder, his hair brushing Tetsuya’s collar bone, and his neck. It smells good, softly fruity. The movie never gets any good, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that Hiromu is pressed against him, as close to him as he’s ever been. The movie ends. The lights come back on. Hiromu stirs, pulling away quickly, yawning behind his hand, his head bowed, his hair hiding his face.

“Sorry.” His voice is soft, still half-asleep. A voice he’d never thought he’d hear. Hesitantly, Tetsuya reaches over, and tucks Hiromu’s hair behind his ear. He almost instantly regrets the casual, but intimate, touch. Hiromu seems uncomfortable with it, or maybe embarrassed at inviting him to see a movie and then using him as a pillow.

“C’mon, lemme take you to eat.” Tetsuya gets to his feet, and offers Hiromu a hand. He ignores it, and gets up himself. He follows Tetsuya quietly. He’s not sure if he should break the silence between them. It’s not comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable. “What do you want to eat?” Tetsuya slows the pace down a little.

“I don’t…whatever you like, I really don’t mind.” Hiromu shrugs, a slight smile on his lips. “Where’s good?” There’s plenty of decent places around here, but Hiromu’s vague answer doesn’t make it easier to choose what to eat. “Tetsuya?” Hiromu reaches out, touches his hand on the side with his soul-mark. Without a thought, Tetsuya takes Hiromu’s hand. The mark is warm, a gentle warmth that flows up his arm, almost like it’s wrapping around his heart.

They end up walking a little further, to some quiet little place Tetsuya’s visited a few times. Hiromu lets him order for them both, still quiet, his hand rubbing over his soul-mark. It’s more like he’s caressing it, his fingers moving over it slowly, his head bowed slightly, as they sit waiting for their food. He can’t think of anything worth saying. The food arrives, and still Tetsuya can’t think of anything to say to his soulmate. He’s hurt him too much to just make casual conversation about what he’s been doing these last few years, and he slept through the movie so they can’t talk about it. That brings a topic to mind. Hiromu’s there to film for his next movie, there has to be time limit on Tetsuya making things right between them.

“How long are you staying in Mexico?” The question takes Hiromu by surprise. He looks up at Tetsuya, his eyes wide. He turns away, and shakes his head, setting his fork down. “Hiromu?”

“My flight’s in the morning.” Hiromu looks away, casting his gaze over the other patrons. “This was to say goodbye.” He pushes his glasses up, and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I… I wanted to have a _nice_ goodbye this time.” He rubs his eyes, and resettles his glasses. “You know, I didn’t expect to see you again.” His hand clamps over his soul-mark. “I told myself if I did, I wouldn’t care, just like you didn’t.” He bows his head further, his hair hiding his face. “You broke me.” The words are so quiet, they could be lost in the bustle of the restaurant, if Tetsuya wasn’t listening as closely as he is. “I wasn’t good enough for you. I’m supposed to be perfect for you, but you didn’t want me.” His shoulders curl in, making him even smaller. “All I ever wanted was to find you… When I was a kid, I loved movies about soulmates finding each other against all the odds. Love triumphing over everything. I believed in it so much, that love always wins, but it doesn’t, does it?” He lays his hands flat on the table, and pushes his seat back, leaving without another word. Tetsuya springs to his feet, throwing money on the table, apologising to the server loudly, getting waved away with the understanding that relationships are troublesome.

“Hiromu!” The street shouldn’t be devoid of him, but it is. He shouldn’t have gotten more than ten paces away, but there’s no sign of him. A taxi, or he ran, or something else. He should give up. He could try to track Hiromu down, but this isn’t a fairy-tale. They’ve barely spoken to each other. He doesn’t _know_ anything about Hiromu, nothing that isn’t available to the public at large, nothing that isn’t painful is shared between them. Love doesn’t triumph over everything in real life. In the end, love doesn’t always win. His soul-mark aches. A throbbing ache he can’t describe. It’s not sharp, or dull even, just constant, and throbbing. He could do all manner of stupid, stalkerish things, or he could accept that Hiromu has left him as he deserves.

Going home, back to the bar at least, is most likely stupid, but he needs to close up. His staff could, but it sets a part of him at ease to do it himself. With the bar closed, Tetsuya takes a seat at once of the tables, with a bottle of tequila and a shot glass. It’s probably not a good idea, but right now being too drunk to care seems like a very good idea. Twice. He’s had to the chance to have his soulmate twice. Twice, he’s failed. Maybe the line, and Hiromu’s scar, maybe they’re a sign that The Fates made a mistake, and they’re not supposed to be together.

Two shots in, there’s a knock on the door. Not a thump, like a drunk would-be patron, but a knock, timid, almost like it doesn’t want to be heard.

“I thought your flight was in the morning.” Without having fully opened the door, he knows who’s on the other side of it. “I’m not in the mood for making a cocktail.” Hiromu nods, and brushes past him without a word. He pours himself a shot, and downs it.

“How old are you?” Hiromu takes another shot, and fills the glass again.

“Thirty…six, just turned.” Tetsuya takes the glass from him, and drinks the shot. “You’re only one behind.” Hiromu nods vaguely, and fills the glass again, takes his shot quickly.

“Twenty-eight. My birthday is December fourth. You have another glass?” He fills the shot glass, but doesn’t drink it. Tetsuya fetches another glass, and grabs a couple of cans of soda. Too much undiluted tequila isn’t a good idea.

“Twenty-second of June, by the way.” Tetsuya sets the cans down, and fills his new shot glass. “I thought we said our goodbye.” Hiromu laughs bitterly at him, and takes his shot.

“You’re one behind.” He smiles, but doesn’t look at Tetsuya. “So did I.” He drinks Tetsuya’s glass. “Two behind.”

“I’ll catch up.” Tetsuya shifts the bottle of tequila closer to himself. Hiromu seems to have come here with intention of getting very drunk, which is a little alarming. He should say something warm, or meaningful. He takes two shots of tequila, and opens a can of soda instead. “I don’t know what to say to you.” Alcohol makes his words flow freely, but stupidly. Hiromu laughs at him.

“Why wasn’t I good enough?” He takes the open can of soda, and sips at it. “I’ve wanted to know for years.”

“It’s not the right question.” Tetsuya opens the other can of soda, only for Hiromu to drink from it as well, and decide he likes it better, pushing the original one over to Tetsuya. “I thought you were dead, and then you were just there, and I was engaged. Bushi is a great guy… and you were dead.” Tetsuya pours himself a shot, and hovers the bottle over Hiromu’s glass.

“I’m not dead though.” He takes Tetsuya’s glass, ignoring the one he had been drinking from. “I’m here.” He downs the shot. “Very much not dead.” He rests his chin on his fist, his tipsy gaze on Tetsuya. “I wasn’t dead then, either… So, why wasn’t I good enough?”

“You were,” Tetsuya shakes his head, frustrated by his inability to make what he means clear. “You _are_ good enough, Hiromu.” He reaches over the table, catching Hiromu’s left hand, twisting it so he can see the soul-mark. “It’s me that’s not.” He touches the scar that runs through it. Thick, and ugly, bisecting the pretty pattern that makes up their soul-mark. He lowers his forehead to rest against it, feeling Hiromu’s fingers flex against his. “I should have known the doctors were wrong.” Hiromu doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t attempt to take his hand back. “I should have held on to you.”

“You didn’t.” Hiromu takes his hand back at that. Tetsuya looks up at him. His expression is at once drunk, and utterly blank. “Because I wasn’t good enough for you.”

“No.” Tetsuya grabs both of Hiromu’s hands, holding him tightly. “Stop that.”

“I’ve had years with only that in my head.” Hiromu’s hands slide into his hair, and tug on it. “Why?”

“I…” Tetsuya sighs, and scrubs a hand over his face. “I was scared.” Hiromu focusses on him. “I had resigned myself to being without my soulmate, and then you just show up in some shitty nightclub, and I was scared.” He forgoes his glass, and takes a swig from the bottle. “I knew who you were, I knew,” another swig, “but I was scared. I had a life all planned out. I had a job, a partner, a whole planned out life, and you just show up.” He tries to take a drink, but Hiromu snatches the bottle from him, and drinks from it.

“I’d say sorry, but you know.” He laughs, the sound so harsh and bitter that calling it laugh seems almost incorrect.

“ _I’m_ sorry.” He reaches for the tequila bottle again, but once more Hiromu drinks from it. “I know it means nothing, but I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you, Hiromu.” The bottle is slide over to him.

“I’ve done okay, I guess.” Hiromu takes up one of the soda cans, and drinks from it. “That tequila is strong.” He laughs suddenly. His head falls into his arms on the table, giggling to himself. “Can I stay the night?” There’s no question Tetsuya could have expected less than that. He feels compelled to ask about Hiromu’s flight, but this might be the only opportunity he has to make things better between them. The last time Hiromu made the offer of spending the night together, it had gone wrong. This time, he’s going to see Hiromu first thing in the morning.

“You can have my bed.” He reaches out, and touches Hiromu’s hair, stroking it lightly. “Why is your hair red at the ends?”

“Huh?” Hiromu looks at him from under a curtain of his hair. He looks ridiculously cute.

“Take my bed. It’s comfy.” Tetsuya hopes that’s reassuring. Hiromu reaches over the table, and grabs Tetsuya’s hand.

“Will you stay with me?” He sounds so earnest. His fingers dance over Tetsuya’s soul-mark, lingering over the line that bisects it. “I wanna snuggle.” A silly grin spreads over his lips, and he rests his cheek against Tetsuya’s hand. The very idea of snuggling Hiromu has Tetsuya smiling like an idiot. “You wanna snuggle me, don’t you?” Hiromu rubs his cheek against Tetsuya’s soul-mark. “Sometimes… sometimes I think about you.” He smiles sadly. “Sometimes I pretend you’re going to come home to me… that you’ll lie down beside me, and,” he sighs softly, and hides his face against Tetsuya’s arm. “It’s silly, isn’t it? I know you don’t want me, but I still hope…”

“I want you.” Tetsuya strokes Hiromu’s hair from his brow. “I’ve always wanted you.”

“So, why did you let me go? Why did you push me away? Why-“

“Stop it.” Tetsuya cut him off, and twists the arm under Hiromu’s cheek, so he can cup it gently. “I didn’t keep you because I’m an idiot. I hurt you, and I’m so sorry… _so_ sorry.” Hiromu shrugs, and sits up moving away from him. “So, if you want me to snuggle you, then I’ll snuggle you all night long.” Tetsuya comes around the table, slides an arm under Hiromu’s and hefts him to his feet. He laughs, and snuggles against Tetsuya. “C’mon you.” He starts moving, heading for the door to the stairs to his apartment behind the bar. Hiromu’s still giggling, and snuggling, his feet scuffing along like he doesn’t quite have control over them. He stumbles along beside Tetsuya, giggling to himself. Tetsuya tries to think of nothing but the feeling of Hiromu’s body at his side, trying to document every little detail. He’s not getting to keep this. He doesn’t deserve even this. Hiromu must have some manner of lover, for all he denies it to reporters, there must be someone to smooth his hair back, and kiss his brow at the end of a long day. He can’t imagine Hiromu being alone for his whole life.

“Leave me on the couch.” Hiromu’s either sobered up a little, or the alcohol is hitting him harder. When they get upstairs, Hiromu tries to pull away from him, his voice has lost the warmth and the giggles.

“I promised you my bed.” Tetsuya tightens his hold, not giving up his grip on Hiromu at all. “And more importantly, I promised you snuggles.” Tetsuya pulls him in closer. Hiromu meets his eyes reluctantly when Tetsuya turns him to face him. “I’m going to keep the promises I make to you.” Hiromu wets his lips, staring at Tetsuya.

“What else will you promise me, Tetsuya?” His voice is low, a little rough, and a lot demanding.

“Tonight?” Tetsuya shifts how he’s holding Hiromu, leaning down a little so their faces are parallel. “Nothing more tonight.” He wants to kiss him, but he’s not drunk enough to be able to take more than he deserves. He doesn’t even deserve what Hiromu’s asked of him tonight. Hiromu looks almost hurt. His eyes falling to the floor, his head bobbing once. “Let’s go to bed.”

He’s glad his bedroom at least looks somewhat reasonable. There are no piles of clothes, or dirty dishes, and his bed is made. Hiromu collapses onto the bed as soon as he’s close enough to it, and curls up on his side. Tetsuya lays down behind him, and slides an arm under Hiromu’s waist.

“You gonna be little spoon, hmm?” Tetsuya plasters himself to Hiromu’s back, and presses his face to his hair. He’s almost asleep when Hiromu twists in his arms, and eases Tetsuya to his back. He rests his head on Tetsuya’s chest, and makes the softest, saddest noise of contentment Tetsuya’s ever heard when he holds Hiromu tightly.

“Thank you.” Hiromu murmurs softly, his cheek rubbing against Tetsuya’s chest. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Waking up alone was what Tetsuya had expected. It doesn’t make it hurt less though. He’d barely slept last night. Despite how drunk he was, he’d known he’d need to remember as much of sharing a bed with Hiromu as he possibly could. Now, his hungover is at least drowned out by the pain in his heart. He could try lying to himself, telling himself that the pillow beside him, or the blanket over him has Hiromu’s scent clinging to them, but he knows they don’t. They smell of him and his laundry detergent. His arms remember the feeling of Hiromu though. His chest remembers the feeling of Hiromu’s head against it. His nose remembers the scent of Hiromu’s hair. He deserves this. The aching pain in his chest is something he definitely deserves.

It takes him an hour to drag himself out of bed, and into his living room. The first thing he sees is a note. A neat scrawl of a phone number and a very simple _my number if you want it_. He wants it. It’s entered into his phone before Tetsuya does anything else.

Another hour passes before he builds the courage to send Hiromu a text message, and when he does it feels almost stupid.

_Did you make your flight? - sent_

He feels like an idiot, and spends the rest of the day feeling that way, because surely, he could have thought of something more impactful, more important, more impressive to send Hiromu. It doesn’t seem to matter though. Hiromu doesn’t reply until just before Tetsuya’s heading to bed.

_Yes – received_

Not the sort of reply he was hoping for, but definitely the one he deserves. He’s not sure what he’d been expecting. He knew what he was hoping for, something long and detailed, something to read over and over.

_That’s good. I was worried. Was it a good flight? – sent_

_It was long, and there was a baby on it. – received_

_Babies shouldn’t be on flights more than an hour, and it’s illegal to suffocate them even if they cry the whole flight – received_

_HIROMU! You can’t murder babies! – sent_

_That’s what my assistant said :(_ _\- received_

_It’s not like I’d have murder-murdered it, just a little murder – received_

_All baby murder is little – sent_

A string of laughing emojis is all he gets in response. It’s a short little conversation, but it’s enough to make Tetsuya go to bed with a smile. He made Hiromu laugh. It sends him to sleep with a smile in his heart, and the memory of Hiromu in his arms in his mind.

_Morning! I hope your day goes better than mine – received_

_What happened? – sent_

_Eh… nothing really, I’m just complaining. I’ll stop it – received_

_I don’t mind! COMPLAIN TO ME! It’ll make me feel useful - sent_

It’s definitely the most desperate thing he’s ever written, but he’s not going to regret it, because it’s pitifully true.

_I promise you can complain to me as much as you like – sent_

_You’re sure? :D_ _– received_

_My dailies from Mexico weren’t so bad, but I hate editing, and the studio are complaining that there needs to be more of a traditional romance, ignoring the fact that’s not even my thing! I’ve built a whole career on not doing what people expect! – received_

_Studios interfere a lot? – sent_

_Not usually, but this is an American studio… they’re different to the ones I usually work with – received_

_I hope they don’t fuck you over. You’ve got a good style – sent_

_You watch my movies? – received_

_… and read your interviews – sent_

_You’ve no shame in text form, huh? – received_

_I hurt you in the worst possible way, what’s the point in feeling shame for anything else? – sent_

Hiromu doesn’t reply. For two whole days, he doesn’t reply. Tetsuya reads the exchange over more times than he can remember. He lives his life as normal, but when he gets the chance, he reads those messages over. He’s not sure which stupid thing offended Hiromu, or satisfied his need to punish Tetsuya. It feels like a punishment, but he deserves it. If Hiromu has decided to ignore him, it’s probably for the best.

_Fun times – received_

_????? – sent_

_Editing is the literal worst! I hate it! I just want the damn thing to appear the way I want it, but no! I have to work on the damn thing! – received_

_You do your own editing? – sent_

_Not exactly… I kinda hover over their shoulders… I do this to myself :)_ _it’s my own fault really – received_

_I’m sure it’s not that bad… at least you know your movie will look the way you want it to – sent_

_Have you been busy? I’ve not heard from you in a few days… - sent_

_No one has… - received_

_I was hiding. I’m not fun to be around during editing – received_

_I’m sure it’s not so bad – sent_

A string of laughing emojis. Tetsuya smiles at them, once again pleased to have received such a gift of a message.

_I’m wrong? – sent_

_You’ve no idea! I’m a monster – received_

_I promise I don’t mind – sent_

_You can be a monster at me – sent_

_You’ll regret that! – received_

_I won’t – sent_

He’s surprised that over the next few days, Hiromu sends him ranting messages that don’t really need replies, but Tetsuya replies to anyway. Every time he gets a string of laughing emojis he’s filled with a burst of pride that makes his soul-mark tingle. It feels stupidly like undoing the years of pain he’d forced Hiromu through.

Emojis and text messages are never going to make things better between them, but it at least lets him learn more about his soulmate. He’s learnt a fair amount about Hiromu’s nature. He knows he has a sweet tooth to rival any child, that he likes making storyboards more than he likes writing scripts, that he loves scary stories despite never making horror movies. The worst thing he’s learnt is that Hiromu really is alone. He has friends, the guy who was with him the night they met is still his friend, but Hiromu has no one to go home to. When his day is rough, all he has is his cat. It’s a very cute cat, but a cat can’t hold him, or stroke his hair, or tell him things will be okay. Tetsuya tries his best, but it feels like he’s trying to fill an ocean with a thimble. His heart aches when he reads messages where Hiromu is anything but happy. He wants to hold his soulmate, and make everything better for him. Selfishly, he’s growing to believe that Hiromu might want him to be there for him too.

_I’m going to be in the US – received_

The moment Tetsuya reads that message, he starts absently looking into getting a visa for the US whilst being a foreign national in Mexico.

_Do you want to come visit me? I’m taking a holiday before I go do press. – received_

_Sure! Send me the details – sent_

_You’re sure? I know you’ll be working – received_

_I’m due a vacation, I promise – sent_

He gets a line of laughing emojis for that, followed by the details of where and when Hiromu is going to be in America. It takes Tetsuya ten minutes to arrange one of his staff to look after his bar, and book his flights.

He’s nervous. He’s not been in the US in a long time, and he’s relying on Hiromu to meet him. He still half-expects to be stood up, despite the months of talking to each other, despite the relationship, _friendship_ , they’ve built. He doubts he deserves Hiromu’s attention, but on the other side of arrivals, Hiromu is waiting for him. He gives Tetsuya a tight smile, and holds his hand out for a shake. Tetsuya ignores such a formal greeting, and pulls Hiromu into a hug. He tenses the moment Tetsuya holds him too tightly.

“I’ve missed you.” He almost whispers it into Hiromu’s ear, and presses his face against Hiromu’s hair. Hiromu finally relaxes in his arms. His soul-mark feels warm and tingly. It’s a pleasant feeling.

“It’s nice to see you again. Thank you for coming.” Hiromu pulls away, and gives him a smile. “C’mon, you must be tired.” Tetsuya doesn’t bother arguing, especially when Hiromu takes his hand, and starts leading the way out of the airport. “I didn’t get you a room.” The moment that occurs to Hiromu, he lets go of Tetsuya’s hand, and stuffs his into his pockets. “You can have my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I want to snuggle you.” Tetsuya slips his hand into Hiromu’s pocket, chasing his hand, and lacing their fingers together. “I promise.” Hiromu glances over at him, a little smile plays at the corners of his mouth.

The hotel suite Hiromu’s staying in is nice. Clean, tidy, and anonymous. Tetsuya can’t help but wonder how Hiromu’s home looks. They’ve never video-called each other, never called each other in general, so he’s never been able to sneak glances at Hiromu’s home. Hiromu smothers a yawn with his hand as soon as they’re in his room.

“Did you sleep on your flight?” Tetsuya ignores the part of him that wants to hesitate on wrapping his arms around Hiromu’s waist, and holding him close. Hiromu melts in his embrace, his forehead against Tetsuya’s shoulder.

“I never sleep on flights.” He murmurs, making a soft noise when Tetsuya rests his cheek on top of Hiromu’s head.

“Another crying baby?” Tetsuya sways them gently from side to side. Hiromu moves with him easily, like their bodies were made to work together, but he supposes that’s true. They’re soulmates. They belong together. His soul-mark feels like it’s humming, a warmth that spreads from his mark to his chest, his heart feels as warm and tingly as the soul-mark. Hiromu pulls away suddenly. His cheeks are slightly flushed, his eyes are focussed on the floor.

“No… I just don’t sleep on flights.” Hiromu fidgets. “Here.” He pulls a keycard from his pocket, and offers it to Tetsuya. “I’m gonna shower and nap. You can-“

“I could do with a nap. I promise, I’ll keep the bed nice and warm for you.” Tetsuya dumps his bag onto the couch, and kicks his shoes off.

“You don’t want to shower with me?” Hiromu smiles at him, but it’s a strange smile, one that doesn’t meet his eyes. As much as he’d like to help Hiromu shower, it’s not something he should do, not yet, maybe not ever, and that smile make that obvious.

“I promise, I’m clean. I showered before I got on the plane.” Hiromu laughs at that, and goes to the bathroom, leaving Tetsuya alone. The room is utterly impersonal, but that’s to be expected, Hiromu just landed. His suitcase is still closed and in one corner of the room. Tetsuya closes the room’s curtains, and turns down the comforter on the bed. It would be more comfortable to take off his clothes, but he’s not going to do that. Hiromu would get the wrong impression. He lies down, and wriggles his legs under the comforter, trying to warm the bed up.

“I thought you were joking.” Hiromu, damp with a towel around his waist, laughs at Tetsuya.

“I said I’d keep the bed warm for you.” Tetsuya pokes his tongue out, getting another laugh from Hiromu.

“You said, but I didn’t hear you promise, so I wasn’t expecting it.” Hiromu starts rooting through his suitcase. “I forgot to take clean clothes in there with me.” He pulls an oversized t-shirt from his case, and pulls it on. Tetsuya turns to look at the ceiling. He’s not going to violate Hiromu’s privacy by watching him get dressed. Sharing a bed is one thing, seeing more of Hiromu’s naked body is another.

“Come and have your nap.” Tetsuya shifts to the other side of the bed, resisting the urge to instantly pull Hiromu to him, instead he waits for Hiromu to settle down, and come to him.

“You’re going to stay with me?” Hiromu’s lying as close as he can without touching Tetsuya.

“Let me snuggle you. I promise, I’ll stay until you wake up, and we can get something to eat.” Hiromu moves closer, his leg brushing Tetsuya’s. “Can I?” Tetsuya reaches out nervously. Hiromu smiles at him, and comes to him, resting his head on Tetsuya’s chest. His hands settle on Hiromu’s back, one moves up to comb through Hiromu’s hair. “Do we have plans?”

“Hmm? No, no plans yet.” Hiromu yawns against Tetsuya’s chest, and smiles up at him. “Food when I wake up?”

“I guess that’s our plans then.” Tetsuya strokes Hiromu’s cheek, watching him doze off.

Their nap ends up eating most of the day, and even when he wakes up, Hiromu is soft and clearly sleepy. Tetsuya orders room service. It seems like a better idea than trying to pry Hiromu’s arms from him. As they’d slept, Hiromu had coiled his arms around Tetsuya so tightly it’s almost difficult to breathe. He tries to avoid thinking about the fact Hiromu’s probably clinging to stop him from abandoning him. He’s hurt his soulmate so badly, and yet he clings to him so tightly. He doesn’t deserve him, but he has him, and will try to earn him.

The next day, they spend at the beach. Tetsuya swims. Hiromu seems slightly jet-lagged, and lies on a towel under an umbrella for half the day. In the afternoon, he joins Tetsuya in the sea, delightedly splashing around, laughing at bad jokes, and looking happy, so very happy. That night, Tetsuya falls asleep feeling proud. There’s an almost glow in their soul-marks, a glow that shows through Hiromu’s thick scar, and the ugly line in Tetsuya’s. It was a good day. Tetsuya hopes tomorrow is more of the same.

Hiromu’s grinning as he leads the way towards the theme park. He shoots Tetsuya the brightest smile he’s ever seen, and Tetsuya curses the fact he’s terrified of rollercoasters. For that smile he’s going to be facing a great deal of his fears, because he’s not going to be the cause of that smile dying. Hiromu doesn’t share his fear of the rollercoasters, but it only takes him one ride to realise that Tetsuya isn’t having any fun at all. He lets Tetsuya chose what they’re going to do next, and seems content enough with a teacup ride. Foolishly, Tetsuya assumes he’ll be fine on the ghost train. He isn’t. He ends up with his face hidden against Hiromu’s shoulder, his fear, thankfully, almost drowned out by the warmth of his soul-mark. It’s flooding him with warmth from being pressed so tightly against Hiromu. After his embarrassing moment on the ghost train, Hiromu takes pity on him. They end up getting ice cream, and wandering around the stalls with games. With those games, Tetsuya finds his stride. If he was hoping for this to be a date, cowering from rollercoasters and ghost trains wasn’t going to help, but winning Hiromu a stuffed cat definitely did. Hiromu seemed delighted with his prize, and had kissed Tetsuya, a sudden delighted rush of a kiss, that had drawn a laugh from the stall’s vendor. A much better end to the day.

The next day is nothing. A simple day of meandering around, and doing nothing. It only becomes important when they get back to Hiromu’s suite. He follows Tetsuya into the shower, kissing him slowly, and washing his hair.

“I want you.” Hiromu murmurs into Tetsuya’s ear. Tetsuya’s hands settle on Hiromu’s waist pulling him closely, not thinking too hard about this. If Hiromu is feeling horny, then Tetsuya is right there with him. It’s nothing to forget how little he deserves Hiromu when Hiromu himself is initiating things between them, especially a wet, writhing Hiromu who seems determined to touch Tetsuya everywhere at once. “C’mon. Bed.” He’s laying swift, teasing kisses to Tetsuya’s lips, his hands smoothing up and down Tetsuya’s back. Bed sounds like the best idea ever.

“You have something?” Tetsuya has the presence of mind to ask as he’s drying off quickly, fending off Hiromu’s caresses, and trying to keep his own hands to himself long enough for Hiromu to dry. It’s hard to resist the urge to touch his little soulmate all over. He’d never expected to be allowed to do this, and is a little surprised by it. He’s happy, giddy almost, but it feels too much and too soon. He’s caused Hiromu years of pain. Those years can’t be erased in one night, but Hiromu is insistent, and willing. He should slow this down. They should talk this over. Hiromu is grinding against his thigh, kissing him frantically, his body rubbing against Tetsuya’s perfectly.

“Yeah, I got something.” Hiromu catches his hands, and leads him to the bed. He falls onto it, pulling Tetsuya down on top of him with a laugh. “In the drawer.” Tetsuya pulls away long enough to take a tube of lube from the drawer, and returns to kissing Hiromu quickly.

“I’ll be careful, I promise.” Tetsuya noses at Hiromu’s jawline, hiding a smile against his neck.

“It’s not my first time, Tetsuya.” Hiromu counters, but Tetsuya doesn’t care. He’s not going to let their first time together anything less than perfect. He kisses Hiromu, still slightly astounded by how good it is to kiss him. Even something so simple is perfectly natural between them. He breaks the kiss, and pulls away.

“It’s _our_ first time.” Tetsuya strokes Hiromu’s cheek. “I’ve hurt you enough.” He runs his hand down Hiromu’s chest, and swipes a thumb over one of Hiromu’s nipples. Hiromu squirms beneath him, and reaches out to him, pulling him back into a kiss.

“It’s okay,” Hiromu smiles at him, a timid little quirk of his lips. “You couldn’t hurt me more than you have.” Hiromu turns away from him. Tetsuya winces. “So, it’s okay to let go. Use me however you want.” Tetsuya pulls away, gets off Hiromu, and sits on the edge of the bed. “Tetsuya?”

“I’m sorry.” Hiromu had sounded panicked when he’d called his name, but he can’t go on like this. His chest hurts, his soul-mark hurts, his _soul_ hurts. They should have spoken about this before it got this far.

“Sorry?” Hiromu plasters himself to Tetsuya’s back. “It’s okay.” He starts kissing over Tetsuya’s shoulders, his hands groping Tetsuya’s chest

“Stop,” Tetsuya twists so he can see Hiromu’s face. “I need you to know I’m sorry. I need you to know I won’t hurt you again. Not on purpose.”

“I don’t mind. Even a little more pain from you is better than nothing. I’m grateful for it, really.” Hiromu gives him the most awful smile he’s ever seen. His soul-mark burns, right until Hiromu takes a hold of his hand. A soft glow comes from their marks. Hiromu turns from him, and smiles down at Tetsuya’s soul-mark. “Usually, it hurts.”

“Not when we’re together.” Tetsuya stares down at Hiromu’s soul-mark. The thick scar that’s the root cause of the pain he’s brought Hiromu stands out clearly in amongst the delicate lines of their shared mark.

“No… but it hurts all the rest of the time.” Hiromu closes his eyes, and presses his lips together, like he was trying to keep from crying. “So, I don’t mind how you treat me, just let me have a moment when it doesn’t burn, _please_.”

“I promise…” Tetsuya raises Hiromu’s marked wrist, and presses a kiss to it. “I will do everything I can to not hurt you again.” Hiromu shakes his head.

“You will.” He pulls his arm back, and sits crossed-legged, his hands in the space created by his legs. “And it’ll be okay. I’ve done alright these last few years, I can take it.“

“Stop it.” Tetsuya holds a hand up, reaching out, but not touching Hiromu. “I know I hurt you. I hurt myself, but more importantly, I hurt my soulmate. The one person in the world who is perfect for me. The one person in the world who I should cherish above everything else, and I pushed them away.”

“I said it’s okay,” Hiromu screws his eyes closed, and leans into Tetsuya’s hand. “Let me have what ever you’ll give me.”

“My soul.” Tetsuya watches Hiromu’s eyes snap open. “Like I should have given you in the first place, because it’s yours.” He slides his hand into Hiromu’s hair. “I promise, my soul is yours.” Hiromu says nothing to that, he just nods, and lies back down. He’s watching Tetsuya closely. It’s almost unnerving having such an attentive audience, but there’s a lot riding on him doing this right. If he hurts Hiromu now, it’s all over. He’d lose the little trust he’s earned back, and never be able to recover it.

“Your soul? That’s a lot to promise, Tetsuya.” Hiromu sounds dubious. “Start smaller, hmm? Give me your cock first.” He spreads his legs, one on either side of Tetsuya. “Then we can work up to souls.” It’s a start. Not one Tetsuya would have chosen, but a start all the same.

“So, how do you like it?” Tetsuya smears a generous dollop of lube over Hiromu’s hole, and gives him what he hopes is a winning smile. Hiromu opens his mouth, no doubt to say it doesn’t matter, which is the exact opposite of the truth. “I need you to tell me. I don’t know, and I need to.”

“Slowly.” Hiromu presses his head back against the pillow. “I like to be touched like I’m worth something.” Tetsuya strokes Hiromu’s cheek.

“As you deserve.” A little cheesy, maybe, but it feels like the right thing to say. It makes Hiromu smile at least. He eases a finger inside Hiromu, and slides it out again. In and out, repeated until Hiromu is squirming and bucking beneath him. “Ready for another?”

“Yes!” Hiromu cants his hips up, offering himself up to Tetsuya. He works another finger into Hiromu, stretching him open. Two fingers become three gradually, leaving Hiromu whining and keening, almost begging for Tetsuya’s cock. When he finally feels like Hiromu’s ready, Tetsuya still hesitates, nervous about taking Hiromu without his expressed permission.

“Are you sure?” Tetsuya’s braced over him, looking for any sign of Hiromu being uncomfortable with the idea of being taken by him. Hiromu nods, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “Hiro?”

“I’m sure,” Hiromu shifts beneath him, one of his hands steals between them, and wraps around Tetsuya’s cock, brushing the head over his hole. “Didn’t I say I wanted your cock? Give it to me.” Tetsuya nods, and pushes forward, working his cock inside Hiromu. He moves slowly inside Hiromu, savouring the warmth and tightness of his soulmate’s body.

“You’re so good, baby.” Tetsuya murmurs into Hiromu’s ear. His hips are moving slowly, driving his cock as deeply into Hiromu as he can manage. Hiromu’s nails bite into Tetsuya’s shoulders, his legs tight around his waist, holding him close, and giving Hiromu leverage to match Tetsuya’s thrusts down into him. He makes the softest little noises, the sweetest moans, as Tetsuya takes him. It’s everything Tetsuya could have hoped for. This slow, delicate love making; the only phrase that matches this act is that. They’re making love, a physical act to confirm what their souls already know. They belong together. His stupidity on the night they met did nothing but delay them being together, his soul knows that. His soul knows it’s Hiromu’s. He can only hope Hiromu’s soul agrees.

“You don’t need to be so gentle.” Hiromu groans in Tetsuya’s ear. “Fuck me however you like.”

“I’m not _fucking_ you, Hiro.” Tetsuya meets Hiromu’s eyes almost nervously. “I’m _not_ fucking you.” Tetsuya leans down, and kisses Hiromu slowly, moaning when Hiromu’s hands tangle in his hair.

“I know that.” Hiromu laughs, and holds his face. “You’ve barely moved.”

“Not what I mean.” Tetsuya presses a kiss to Hiromu’s palm. “Fucking has different connotations.” Hiromu stares at him blankly, and pulls him down again, kissing Tetsuya’s face in random places.

“You’re making love to me?” Hiromu laughs softly in his ear. “Okay, okay. Make love to me a little quicker though.” He does as Hiromu asks, moving a little faster. “That’s it.” Hiromu groans. His head is pressed back, offering his throat to Tetsuya as much as he can. Tetsuya takes that offering, lapping and kissing at Hiromu’s neck. “Mark me.”

“What?” Tetsuya glances up at Hiromu, his breath catching at the look in his eyes. Smouldering and submissive, begging and domineering all at once. He nips at Hiromu’s neck, suckling at the spot, leaving the mark Hiromu had demanded from him. Hiromu touches the little mark Tetsuya put on his neck, a beautiful smile on his lips, his eyes gleaming.

“Can I?” Tetsuya isn’t sure what Hiromu’s asking, but he has an idea. He tries to give Hiromu as much room as possible to leave a mark on his neck. “Mine.” Hiromu sounds terribly pleased with himself, especially when a shiver runs through Tetsuya. “More.” His heels dig into Tetsuya’s back.

“More?” Tetsuya speeds up, and wraps his hand around Hiromu’s cock. “You’re so close, huh?” Hiromu doesn’t answer with words. Instead he moans, and thrusts his hips up into Tetsuya’s hand. “So hard, and wet, and so very close, huh, Hiro?”

“Uh-huh.” It’s almost not an answer. It’s almost a sound of relief as Tetsuya moves his hand. Hiromu’s mouth is slightly open, breathing with stuttering moans, his eyes are almost closed, his gaze heavy with desire.

“Beautiful, you know that?” Tetsuya squeezes, and skims his thumb over the head of Hiromu’s weeping cock. “Will you cum for me?” Hiromu gasps, and whines when he climaxes. His body tightens, and shivers, his hips stuttering into the Tetsuya’s stokes. He’d have liked to have synchronised their orgasm in some silly, romantic gesture, but getting to see Hiromu cum without distraction is more of a reward that his own, that overtakes him a few moments later. After he’s cum, Tetsuya lies on top of Hiromu, catching his breath, and revelling in the slow soothing strokes to his hair. Hiromu moans quietly, mournfully almost, when Tetsuya eases his softening cock from inside him.

“That was good.” He kisses Tetsuya’s temple. “Very good.” The soft strokes to his hair are going to lull him to sleep, and the last thing he wants is to squash Hiromu.

“Marks out of ten?” Tetsuya chuckles to himself, and moves to lie beside Hiromu, smoothing his damp hair from his face.

“Out of ten?” Hiromu turns his head, grinning at Tetsuya. “Seven. There’s always room for improvement.” Tetsuya clutches at his heart, and rolls to lie on his back.

“Seven? I’m hurt!” He slides an arm under Hiromu’s body, and pulls him in close. “I’ll have to keep practicing, I guess.” Hiromu grins at him.

“You will.” He leans up and kisses Tetsuya’s jaw. “Promise you’ll practice with me.”

“Promise.” Tetsuya smiles against Hiromu’s hair.

He’d not expected to wake up alone, but the bed is cold in the morning. The shock of being alone is gut-wrenching. He’d hoped that last night would have repaired a little of their relationship, but the bed is empty, and he’s alone. He stares at the ceiling, and wonders if Hiromu is just in the bathroom, or if he’s decided to leave Tetsuya with a hotel bill he can’t pay, and an even larger wound to his soul.

_You’re going to have to play with yourself today :)_ _– received_

Tetsuya has never moved to check his phone faster in his life. The message from Hiromu is the biggest relief he’s ever felt.

_Where are you? – sent_

_I had to go be nice to press… you remember the cinema up the street I showed you yesterday? – received_

_Yeah – sent_

_Come down about seven, okay? – received_

_I’ll be there, promise - sent_

The little cinema is full when Tetsuya arrives. He’s not sure if he’s excited or nervous. Hiromu’s been evasive about what the movie he made in Mexico is about. He’s come to understand that Hiromu is only evasive when he’s not certain what the outcome of something will be. It’s a defence mechanism. One Tetsuya can’t counter because he’s not had the chance to learn a suitable way to defuse it. All he can do is guess at how to make Hiromu feel better, and in this case what the movie is about. Hiromu’s surrounded by people when Tetsuya finally spots him. He looks surprisingly happy for being surrounded by people, from what Tetsuya’s seen, he doesn’t much like crowds being too close to him. When he sees Tetsuya, he waves him over, and awkwardly introduces him using only his name, not as his partner or friend, but the way he said Tetsuya’s name makes him think that some of these people know a little about him already. A few people look at him dubiously, but all of them smile at him, and shake his hand. He feels oddly like he’s being presented to these people, and is utterly filled with relief when Hiromu takes his hand, twining their fingers together. He’s gotten almost used to the warmth of his soul-mark when they’re holding hands, or even just touching each other in some minor way. In such a short time, it’s become a great comfort, knowing that Hiromu is there with him, that their souls know each other better than they know each other. It fills him with hope that one day they’ll know each other the way their souls do.

“What’s this movie about, Hiromu?” Tetsuya asks when they sit down to watch the movie. Hiromu fidgets in his seat, but doesn’t look at him.

“It’s, uh… it’s autobiographical.” The lights dim, and Hiromu seems grateful to have all conversation put on hold whilst the movie plays.

Autobiographical turns out to be a heavy description to have. It’s not a happy movie. The main character seems so sad. His soulmate has a lover, who they plan to marry. The main character and his soulmate have a clandestine relationship whilst the soulmate’s lover plans their wedding. There are a few snatched moments of happiness, but the movie hurts to watch. The main character seems so disconnected and mournful, only whole at his soulmate’s side, but the soulmate is utterly reluctant to break off the wedding, choosing their lover over the main character again and again. The movie ends with the main character standing on the edge of his apartment building’s roof. The voiceover is quietly summarising the character’s plan to give his soulmate the freedom to be happy with his lover. As the scene goes on, Tetsuya gropes for Hiromu’s hand, squeezing it tightly. He’s worried this autobiographical movie is going to have the worst possible ending. The moment the soulmate calls the main character’s name, Tetsuya gasps in relief. The movie ends with the reunited soulmates _finally_ embracing, _finally_ kissing. The audience starts clapping. In the noise, Tetsuya leans over and kisses Hiromu’s cheek.

“I didn’t want to make this movie until I knew I could give it a happy ending.” Hiromu rests his forehead against Tetsuya’s. “Do I get my happy ending too?” Hiromu sounds scared, his eyes screwed shut, like he’s expecting a no.

“I love you,” Tetsuya whispers into Hiromu’s ear, “I promise, your ending is the happiest.”


End file.
